First Doubts
by marmar122097
Summary: Young Prince Arthur goes through some normal activities, and everything is as it should be. But who is that servant girl he meets at the stables? What is with her questioning opinions the prince has held true for his entire life? ONESHOT may turn into a two-shot


**AN: Hello! I'm back - haven't had much inspiration for fanfics lately, but I've managed this oneshot. It's from my 'firsts' universe, from Arthur's POV. This is supposed to describe Arthur's first doubts about his father's teachings, as well as leading up to how Arthur ended up in Ealdor. I will either make this a two-shot, the second chapter where Arthur meets and rescues merlin, or possibly just add the second chapter as another oneshot. **

**It would be helpful to read the original oneshot, Firsts, but not entirely necessary. **

The castle of Camelot glistened in the newly fallen snow. Each individual particle sparkled like a separate star in the early morning sunlight. Even the training grounds were slick with muddy snow, though there were still knights out there practicing. Amongst them was a young boy - maybe ten years of age. His blond hair had bits of mud here and there, with clumps of snow sticking to it. His red cape was dark maroon in blotches, and his boots were soaked through, numbing his toes. The wind chilled his nose, and cheeks, turning them a bright healthy pink. His hands, gloved though they were, grasped the sword, the wood wet and frozen.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

The prince of Camelot parried and blocked, throwing in a stab of his own here or there. The hopeless new recruit of a knight couldn't follow his techniques, even the most basic ones the prince had been taught since he was old enough to hold a sword. After a few more exchanges, the prince tired of this fight, and brought the point of his sword inside the knight's grip, twisting sharply. This threw the knight off balance, and the sword fell to the ground, impaling itself in a brown puddle. Arthur brought the butt of his sword around, and knocked the knight to the ground, landing with a loud oomf.

The knight went cross-eyed at the point of Arthur's wooden blade.

There was a leather-gloved clapping from somewhere down the training grounds.

"Father!" The young prince cried, tossing his sword down and rushing away from his victory. The poor knight lay there for a few seconds more, breathing heavily.

That prince is good! The knight thought to himself.

Across the training field, the young boy embraced the king, throwing his arms as far around the king's great dearth as he could. Chuckling, Uther patted his son's back. The king was never the most affectionate, but Arthur understood that. As a ruler, one must stand aloof and above it all. One cannot deal personally with the people. One must be like God.

Or so he had always been taught.

"Did you see? Did you see father?" Arthur prattled excitedly. "I defeated Sir Gingham! I defeated him all by myself! I had my sword to his throat!"  
"How exciting, Arthur." Uther said, sounding rather more lethargic than excited. Arthur understood that too. One must never show any emotion, except calculated delight or dismay. Hide your real feelings. A king must always remain impenetrable.

Or so he had always been taught.

"So…?" Arthur asked.

"Yes?" Uther said, standing akimbo and looking down at his golden boy.

"You said if I did well at training I could go with them today! The ambassador!"

"Oh, did I say that?" With a breathy laugh, Uther scooped his son up. "Of course you can, my boy, why don't you go and get your horse saddled up. Gronan is leading the expedition."

"Oh, thank you father!" Arthur shouted, ran in circles, then sped off towards the stables.

Gronan was already atop his horse, a beautiful mahogany mare. Arthur ran up, puffing as a he shouted excitedly.

"Father said I could go with you! Don't leave without me!"

Gronan smiled toothily at the young prince, his teeth were yellow and his dark, bushy eyebrows waggled. His was a large man - no amount of training would enable Arthur to overcome him at this current age and size.

"Very well, sire. But don't take too long - the outlying village in Cenred's kingdom is having a market, and there will be druids and magic there. We must away!"

"I'm coming I'm coming!" Arthur said, running out to saddle his horse. He found a servant had already saddled it. As he climbed on, a young girl came running up.

"Look out!" The prince called, as his horse almost kicked the young girl.

"Sorry! Ms. Lauren forgot her brush over here. We saddled your horse earlier today. She's beautiful."

"What's your name?" Arthur asked. The young girl turned and looked up at him, her brown eyes widening and her hair - little brown ringlets - bouncing about her face.

"Gwen." She said, smiling. She didn't act as though he was a prince. Well, Arthur thought, that's refreshing.

"I'm going to visit a village in Cenred's kingdom today." Arthur said, not sure why he was talking so much to this servant. Servants are meant to serve. They should not make eye contact. They should speak only when spoken too. They should not be friends with the royalty.

Or so he had always been told.

"Why?" Gwen asked.

"Because it's an adventure!" Arthur called excitedly. "And we're going to make sure the druids and magic-doers maintain good behavior." Arthur wasn't sure exactly what that meant, he was repeating what his father had told him.

"Gwen!" Came a voice from behind the stables. Gwen glanced over and quickly back.

"Well, ok, but I wouldn't worry too much about magic." Gwen said.

"GWEN!" The voice was louder this time.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"I have to go," Gwen said, glancing at the back of the stables again.

"But, what did you mean?" Arthur said.

Gwen shrugged. "I don't know. I guess magic-doers are still people, right?"

Then she sped off, and Arthur hurried to catch up with Gronan.

Magic-doers aren't people. They are magical. Magic is evil. Magic must be purged.

Or so he had always been told.


End file.
